


For Better or Worse

by Lunarium



Category: Hyakujuuou GoLion | Beast King GoLion
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fever, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Pneumonia, Protectiveness, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity, Rape, Tragedy, newlyweds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 08:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19059079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: When Takashi and Akira had joined in marriage, they had made a vow, a vow Takashi was adamant to see through to the bitter end.





	For Better or Worse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for H/C Bingo Amnesty May Challenge: small fandoms edition! My prompts were: fever / delirium, humiliation, pneumonia, and protection.

###### for richer, for poorer

What began as a cough accompanied by slight rash after the injury escalated into a terrible case of fever. Akira had brushed it off, said it would pass within a few days, but scalding heat burned against Takashi’s hand each time he felt Akira’s forehead, and he swore he could just make out the sound of fluid in Akira’s lungs. 

Dreadful barks echoed in the prison cell as Akira fell to his knee, overcome by another round of a coughing fit. Takashi gave a somber shake of the head.

“It’s the injury you sustained in the fight last week,” he surmised. “That creature hadn’t looked too well himself.”

Akira smiled weakly, glancing up at his husband underneath sweat-soaked bangs.

“Do you take me as some sort of weakling, Takashi?” he asked, the normally teasing tone in his voice dulled by the scratchiness left in the wake of his coughing fit.

Takashi frowned. 

The cut must have become infectious. It was almost futile to assume anything but the worst when skin tore during an arena match. Human biology, miraculous as it was, simply couldn’t adapt this quick to the bacterial flora on from this alien planet. By all rights they all should have been dead by now, but preparations through the space program saw they would be up to endure any environment.

“Just a fever,” Akira insisted again, much later, as Hiroshi and Tsuyoshi soaked their torn clothes into the bucket of cold bitter water all prisoners were allowed and placed it over his brow. Standing for long had become laborious. “I’ll be fine.”

Days ticked by. A rattling sound accompanied each inhale. Takashi kept a close eye on his husband’s wound— _husband_. They only could come to call one another such recently. Memories of their wedding replayed in Takashi’s now-troubled mind as he turned Akira’s weakened hand in his own.

Frowning, he studied the wound. He turned the hand around in his, and Akira ‘s ring, their wedding band, caught the dim light of the prison cell. 

“I don’t like the look of it, love. We don’t know anything about this planet, these people, nor the microbial life. Our bodies are not used to fighting it.”

“Our bodies will get used to it,” Akira said. 

“We know plenty about the sort of people here!” Isamu muttered angrily and glared towards the cell door. 

“It’ll pass,” Akira said. “They haven’t gotten us in the arena. They won’t get us with a little bug.” He offered them a comforting smile before another rib-breaking round broke through.

###### in sickness and in health

The “little bug” manifested into a series of worsening respiratory symptoms; the rattling sound of fluids in Akira’s lungs were more prominent now, and fighting in the arena proved near impossible. Far too often Takashi had to step between Akira and a Beastman, plunging his blade before any more harm touched his husband. 

“You can’t push yourself!” Takashi said, fretting over Akira. “There has to be a way to exempt you from them!”

Akira chuckled. “Sorry, can’t come fight today. Am sick.” Heavy coughs racked his entire body before he—Takashi sighed and looked away to give Akira some privacy. 

“Don’t think they care if any of us are down,” Tsuyoshi said, whose body was tattooed with scars left by Beastmen and Galra. “It’s all a show for them.”

“And it’s survival for us!” Takashi argued. “Which is why we have to make sure Akira doesn’t go to the arena until he’s better.”

“So...pretend he’s dead?” Hiroshi suggested. 

“We escape!” Isamu added. “Or just you two. We can take care of the Galra ourselves and meet you both later on.”

“No,” Takashi said firmly. “We stay together as a team.”

“But he’ll die!” Hiroshi argued, waving one arm towards Akira. 

Frowning, Takashi regarding his lover, then faced the guards. From where he lay, Akira moaned in pain. Silence fell and stretched until the others squirmed, throwing furtive glances at Takashi. 

“Quiet, I don’t like it when you get like that,” Isamu said.

“Whatcha scheming?” Tsuyoshi regarded Takashi warily. 

“Not scheming anything,” Takashi said with a hint of threat in his tone. “And you three better keep your voices down.” They followed his gaze towards a pair of Galra guards who stood by the gates. They were eyeing Akira with peculiar interest that turned Hiroshi as green as his jumper.

###### to love and to cherish

Takashi loved Akira deeply, so much so that when Akira had wanted their wedding to coincide on the day they took off to outer space, he complied. Isamu, Tsuyoshi, and Hiroshi attended, and no sooner had they exchanged their vows and sealed them with a kiss, then all five were headed for to the launch site and exchanged their wedding suits for space gear. 

Up in the cosmos, bathed in starlight, the two newlyweds consummated their love. And as Takashi held Akira in zero-G, content and basked in afterglow, he remembered their earlier exchange of vows and promised that nothing— _nothing_ —would ever make him break them. 

The Galra guards snuck into the prison cell one night after a fight. Seeing Akira too ill, they had made pardon for Akira, but Takashi had dragged Akira with him to the arena, sensing the danger. Either Akira and he remain in the cell together or they join the others. 

While the others rested rested, the two guards snuck back in. 

“He’s a sickly one, Evrik,” the first said. 

“Hasn’t stopped us before, Dregrax,” the second said. “He’ll make good fun for us.” 

They inched closer and crouched towards the sleeping form. Grinning to one another, they imagined the fun that would take place once the mortal was caught between their grip. 

And that was when a light flashed from the shadows, and a dagger dove into the back of Dregrax. Snarling, Evrik wrestled the human away from the guard. Shouts filled the cell as the other humans jolted awake. 

“Quiet, what’s happening!” 

“Quiet, don’t invoke them!” 

“Show them everything you got, Quiet!” 

“Takashi!” The last one was the sickly human, who sat up and was regarding his lover with pained expression. One hand outstretched, he regarded the Galra, then the human, then them, trying to comprehend everything. “Takashi…why? Please, don’t hurt him.” 

“If he had successfully managed a kill, I would have done the same for him—no hesitation,” Evrik hissed; he locked the human’s arms behind his back as he continued to struggle. “But, since you two seem like a mating pair…” 

He gave a blow against the human’s back, knocking him unconscious. Chuckling darkly, he motioned for Dregrax to follow, and they dragged the human away, the sounds of the sickly human’s begging for his mate following them down the hall. 

*

The meaning of their threat became clear a few days later, as Akira found Takashi again in the arena. It was mercy Takashi was still alive, and mercy that they were not to fight him, but he was thrown into the arena without a stitch of clothing on him, and the crowd jeered as he continued on, shivering in the cold. 

Afterwards, the two guards appeared and violated him before the crowd, whose cheers rebounded and pierced Akira’s ears. He fell to his knees and wept. He could not look, but he refused to keep his eyes away. The pain was immense for his husband; the least he could do to share the pain was to witness what the bastards did to him. 

“Why, Takashi?” 

“It kept them away from you,” Takashi said gently and kissed him afterwards. “Look, your fever’s done, you’re sounding better, and look! Your wound’s healing, like you said it would!”

###### till death do us part

Akira cursed himself. 

For all the times Takashi had protected him, saw him through illness and injuries, had put himself in line of danger so Akira wouldn’t have to, Akira was not there in return. He was not there when Takashi fell. He should have followed him, should have fought Honerva alongside him— _Honerva!_ Forever would the name alone elicit poisoned rage in his heart! He’d never rest until he knew Honerva paid for what she did to Takashi, but most of all: how could he live with himself? 

“I’ve been the worst husband,” he wept into the crook of Takashi’s neck, holding him tightly as Isamu looked on. “I’m so sorry. I will never forgive myself.” 

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, love,” Takashi said softly. The soft caress of his fingers against his cheek was a lover’s farewell kiss. “I love you, and I would rather this all be me than you.” 

“No…”

Their wedding had been so joyous, so ingenious an idea for a pair of space travelers who loved the stars as fully as themselves. How could any of this happen? 

“Till death do us part, but Akira...nothing will ever part me from you.” The hand, the caress, his farewell kiss, stopped as he clasped Akira’s cheek. “I’ll forever remain beside you, beloved husband.” 

Leaning in, Akira wept so Takashi would not see his tears as he took his final breaths.


End file.
